The king, as he journeyed, beheld a wondrous land adorned with lotuses of every kind—hundred-petaled lotuses, blue lotuses, water lilies—and graced by aquatic birds and flowers born from the waters themselves. Majestic mountains rose with blazing peaks, their slopes dotted with beautiful caves and crowded with trees of many varieties, embellished further by countless minerals sparkling in the sunlight. The summits were marvelous beyond compare, auspicious abodes for all beings, and the slopes were broad and variegated, rich with every medicinal herb. Surrounded by such delightful and splendid features, the king gazed upon a place revered by the three worlds—a field spanning ten yojanas in breadth and five in length, filled with marvels and supremely difficult to attain. Within this sacred, excellent, Vaiṣṇava field, a question arose: why had no Vaiṣṇava image been established there before? What prompted the king, who had come with his army and vehicles, to consecrate the images of Kṛṣṇa, Rāma, and the auspicious Bhadrā? A great doubt and wonder stirred among those present, and they implored the Lord of the world to recount everything, to reveal the reason behind these acts. The Lord responded, “Hear now the ancient tale that destroys sin; I shall briefly recount it, as once told by Hari when questioned by Śrī.” On the golden peak of Mount Sumeru, filled with marvels and adorned by siddhas, vidyādharas, yakṣas, and kinnaras, the gods gathered. Dānavas, gandharvas, nāgas, hosts of apsarases, sages, guhyakas, siddhas, suparṇas, and companies of Maruts were present, along with other divine beings—sādhyas, progenitors like Kaśyapa, Vālakhilyas, and others—making the mountain splendid and exceedingly delightful. Divine groves of karṇikāra trees flourished, abundant with flowers of every season, their golden brilliance shining like the sun. Forests of śāla, tāla, puṃnāga, aśoka, sarala, banyan, mango, āmra, and arjuna trees spread across the mountain. There were pārijāta, amra, khadira, anīpa, bilva, kadamba, dhava, khādira, pālāśa, śīrṣa, amalaka, and tinduka trees, as well as nāriṅga, kola, bakula, lodhra, pomegranate, dāruka, sarja, karṇa, tagara, śiśi, bhūrja, and vanimba trees. Other golden trees, bent under the weight of their fruits, adorned the landscape, their branches heavy with diverse fragrant flowers. Flowers such as mālatī, yūthikā, mallī, kunda, bāṇa, kuruṇṭaka, pāṭala, agastya, kuṭaja, mandāra, and many others blossomed everywhere, delighting the mind. Flocks of birds sang with sweet voices, while the divine calls of male cuckoos and the cries of intoxicated peacocks filled the air. The mountain, adorned by birds of many kinds and served by the gods, was a place of great beauty. There, the Lord of the universe stood—the imperishable creator of the world, Vāsudeva. The goddess, desiring the welfare of all beings, bowed her head and asked the supreme question of the lotus-born one: “O Lord of all worlds, speak the doubt that remains in my heart regarding the wondrous and rare field of action in the mortal realm. When one is seized by greed, delusion, and the planets, lost in the vast ocean of desire and anger, by what means, O Lord of gods, may one be freed from this ocean of worldly existence?” She implored, “Tell me, O Lord of all gods, for I bow to you. If you consider me worthy, please resolve my doubt, for apart from you, there is no one in this world who can do so.” Hearing her words, Janārdana, the god of gods, spoke with supreme affection, his words like nectar: “He is easy to worship, easy to attain, delightful, and yields excellent results. The supreme person resides in the foremost sacred place, O goddess, renowned everywhere. No one like him exists in the three worlds; by praising him, O goddess of the gods, one is freed from all sins. He is not known by all the immortals, nor by demons or danavas, nor by the great sages like Marīci; he is concealed by me, O beautiful-faced one. Therefore, I will now tell you about the king of sacred places; listen, O lovely one, with undivided attention.” Janārdana continued: “When a new cycle arose, and all that was movable and immovable was destroyed, the gods, gandharvas, demons, vidyādharas, and serpents were dissolved. All became enveloped in darkness; nothing was discernible. In that state, the soul of beings, the supreme soul, the teacher of the world, remained awake. The glorious Lord, creator of the Trimurti, the great Lord who fashioned the universe, is renowned as Vāsudeva—he is the soul of yoga, Hari, the Supreme Lord. At the end of his yogic slumber, he created Brahmā, the imperishable being, who appeared in the center of the lotus arising from his navel, shining like the filaments of a lotus. Then Brahmā, having become thus, the great Lord of all worlds, gradually created all things, endowed with the five elements. All beings, gross and subtle, born from various wombs and sources—of four kinds, both stationary and moving—were brought forth. Brahmā, Lord of creatures, created all that moves and does not move; reflecting with his mind upon himself, he produced various kinds of beings. He created all the sages beginning with Marīci, as well as gods, asuras, ancestors, yakṣas, vidyādharas, and others, and also rivers such as the Gaṅgā. Humans, monkeys, lions, various birds, as well as those born from wombs, from eggs, and those born from sweat and from splitting, came into being. He created the four classes—Brahmins, Kṣatriyas, Vaiśyas, and Śūdras—and separately, various outcastes and foreigners.” Thus, the Lord revealed the ancient story, illuminating the origins of the sacred field and the purpose behind the king’s actions, and the goddess listened with unwavering devotion.